


the ocean's promise

by die-forellex (heatinfreezing)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Contemplation, Don't @ Me, F/M, Fight Sex, Sex, and then are just great, ema separation, in which rivamika resonate, levi and mikasa are alone for fanfic reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatinfreezing/pseuds/die-forellex
Summary: With others she has found relationships simple to define. Friend. Family. Comrade. Mentor. Neat, simple boxes that tell her how to act, how to fall in line for what is expected of her, to be whatever she must for those around her. Every single one, but for Levi.Where Mikasa wonders how life could be so different than she'd expected.





	the ocean's promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kahleniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahleniel/gifts).



> the latest happy birthday to my dear friend Kahl. I hope that this is to your liking! I'm glad I had the chance to get back on the one-shot train before I start posting my next long story. I love you! Thank you to southsidestory for looking this over.

When she’d been a girl, Mikasa imagined that military life was mostly felling titans outside of the walls. She’d assumed she’d be saving Eren and her comrades along the way until she, Eren, and Armin decided to leave the military.  In her fantasies they always lived some sort of simple life, the three of them content with only the things they needed. Most importantly, though, they were always together.

Years later, she can now see this for how childish the thought had been. Eren and Armin are far from her now, separated by land, ocean and most of all the distance between their hearts. The thought makes her chest ache with longing.

She hadn’t signed up for the promise of revolution, didn’t dream of freedom the way Eren or Armin did, but here she is, three years after the return to Shiganshina on the shore of the ocean.

The ocean had been beautiful when she’d first seen it, though in many ways she thinks that it had been the beginning of the end. She remembers looking out, the water stretching seemingly forever until the sky met the sea. For Eren and Armin, something about that limitlessness had called to them, inspired them to move onward to the unknown, to whatever intangible freedom that they’d be content to chase forever.

Mikasa looks outward into the darkness of the night and the vast expanse of nothingness above the water may as well be just that. Nothing.

She can’t bring herself to feel the awe and even hope that Eren and Armin had, and secretly she wonders what’s wrong with her. Perhaps since the both of them now shoulder humanity’s last hopes inside of them they have no choice but to take the ocean’s promise for themselves in a way she can’t comprehend.

She looks across the fire at Captain Levi, his own expression far away as he looks deep into the flames of their evening fire. If there was one thing Mikasa hadn’t fully understood about military life, it’s the fact that it is nine parts waiting and one part doing.

They’ve been camped out like this, the two of them for the last week and a half. They’re to wait here for the ever nebulous further instructions. If she’s honest, the whole thing has had her on edge.

This isn’t the first time this has happened, though the first in a while. The two of them have been working together like this for years now, their shared strength near unstoppable when combined. It’s still odd for her. Perhaps it’s another ghost from her youth, the way she’d always imagined herself beside Eren and Armin a difficult dream to fully relinquish for the sake of duty.

The fire casts odd shadows on Levi’s face and in the firelight she thinks that perhaps he looks his age for once. He frowns, clearly an errant and unpleasant thought running through his mind.

No, perhaps that’s not quite right, his face is as deceptively youthful as ever. It’s rather that his well-hidden weariness reveals itself when he is lost in reflection.

Not that she dislikes the man in front of her, but to say she likes him is a strange notion as well. Her feelings for him are odd and feel impossible to put words to. With others she has found relationships simple to define. Friend. Family. Comrade. Mentor. Neat, simple boxes that tell her how to act, how to fall in line for what is expected of her, to be whatever she must for those around her.

But it’s not that way with Levi.

Maybe it’s hard to define what he is to her because he needs nothing from her.

She looks at him, broad shoulders hunched over as he rests his chin on his hands laced together. Even in stillness he is dynamic, the strength and fluidity in his being easy for her to sense just in his presence. Something about it draws her to him, an edge of excitement and wonder that she’d thought she’d become numb to over the years.

They don’t really talk about things, and she prefers it that way usually. It's normally good between them without words, but something about his grim expression urges her to speak.

“You okay?” she asks.

He looks boredly at her from across the fire.

“Why do you ask?”

She shrugs. “You look troubled.”

“Wouldn’t it be strange if I wasn’t?”

Such a frank answer surprises her a little.

“...I suppose it would,” she replies.

It’s not her business what exactly is troubling him so she doesn’t ask him.

“Do you want to fight?”

He doesn’t reply but stands up and stretches side to side. This is easier than talking, and in all honesty more productive for the both of them. Mikasa watches him, notes the way his loose black shirt pulls up and she can see the dark hair on his stomach that leads into his pants. She tries to appear disinterested despite the way the sight of him makes her stomach turn uncomfortably.

She’s felt desire before, usually odd disembodied emotions vaguely connected to people, places and scenarios, but never something that could be acted upon.

Until that changed.

She doesn’t know how they fell into the arrangement they have, not exactly. It’d started out simple. Time in isolation led to boredom, boredom led to fighting. It continued that way for a while, until the last time. She’s not a girl anymore, has known the way of the world for years at this point, but the impression of his hands on her hasn’t left her. The memory of his mouth and body pressed up against her own heats her blood and makes her feel feverish.

She’d be surprised that it hadn’t been awkward, but there’s rclarity in the ambiguity of their arrangement. It’s untouched by duty and obligation in a way she needs; a dark, secret thing she feels but doesn’t fully understand. She’d feel guilty about it, but guilt is a luxury for those who can spend time dwelling on the past.

He catches her looking at him and his usual bored expression seems a little more forced than normal.

They stand there for a moment and she can’t help but enjoy this moment, this sweet tension between the two of them before they move. She lets it fill her, this energy, this feeling until her whole body is so filled with strength that she’ll burst if she doesn’t move.

She lunges at him, the sand beneath her bare feet kicking up as she weaves her body to and fro, feinting before she throws a punch that he easily catches in his fist, the force of her stopped momentum tingling up her arm. She’s quick, clasping her other hand over his hand and swings him forward.

He sweeps beneath her legs faster than she can avoid. She trips and that’s enough for him to land an onslaught of blows, one to her ribs, another to her stomach momentarily winding her before she manages to block a kick to her head that would’ve almost certainly incapacitated her had it landed.

She grabs his leg and tosses him with a yell, his body landing flat on the sand. She doesn’t give him the chance to recover, pouncing on him like an animal and pinning him to the ground inelegantly. She straddles his hips and clasps her hands tightly around his wrists, squeezing so hard that she imagines the bones of his wrist grinding together. Even with gravity on her side it takes all of her strength to keep him held there on the sand, her arms quivering with exertion and fingernails digging into the white skin of his forearms.

Mikasa looks down at him, his brow beading with sweat and cheeks flushed with effort as he pushes up against her and her body hums at the sight of him like this. The thrill of having such strength war with her own is exhilarating in a way she never knew she craved.

He doesn’t give up, but as he struggles beneath her it’s easy to sense things change, her aggression quickly shifting to a desperate want for more, as much of him as she can take from him.  She leans down, her shoulders hunched as she breathes in his ear. She feels him either flinch or shiver, she’s not sure which, as she bites at his ear. She can feel him hard beneath her and she wonders if fighting her is arousing for him the same way it is for her, if the beast inside of her is the same as whatever is inside of him.

It’s hazy, almost dreamlike as she reaches down and pulls his pants down off his ankles, his cock straining up toward his navel that she’d looked at so hungrily earlier in the evening. He’s prettier than she would’ve imagined, with delicate features that don’t belong with a man so severe, but this is contrasted by a smattering of scars criss-crossing all along his body, mostly old white ones with a few newer red ones that are fading, along with bruises blooming where she’d struck him earlier. She doesn’t know what exactly about him she’s drawn to, but perhaps it’s yet another something she can’t really put words to.

She takes off her own pants and tosses them aside, then her shirt and bra until she’s naked before him, the night air spreading goosebumps over her flesh.

He sucks in breath sharply when she grabs him in her hand, hot and wanting as she teases him. She’s not holding him down anymore the way she had before, she doesn’t need to. At least for now, he’s at her mercy. The thought alone makes her feel hot, her own desire pooling between her thighs.

She could do anything she’d like to him when he’s in this state. Perhaps another time she’d want to draw this out. She’s fantasized about what it would be like to see him beg, has wondered if it’s possible to bring a man with such ironclad control to his breaking point, but right now she doesn’t have the patience for such things. She wants this too badly and life constantly feels just a little too short to linger.

She continues in the same manner, following the path of her own pleasure that happens to be his as well. She digs her fingers into his biceps as she rocks against him, quiet but for the breaths between the two of them as she moves.  
  
“Tell me when you’re going to finish,” she says sharply. Of all things, that’s the last one she needs to worry about. He grunts in acknowledgement, though she can tell he’s a little surprised she even mentions it. He grabs her on her hips tightly and she allows it because even if she is in control his hands feel too good on her body to sit idly by his sides.

She grinds herself against him, loses herself in the flow of their bodies together until it’s too much and she’s crying out, eyes shut tight as she finishes.

Levi takes her momentary vulnerability as an opportunity. He pushes upward, flipping her beneath him and pins her down. He ruts into her hard and fast, the pace almost punishing in its intensity. She reaches up and touches his face before she can stop the impulse, runs her hand over his mouth as she looks into his eyes, dark and mostly pupil. He pulls out of her and with two strokes of his cock finishes on her stomach.

She pulls him to her and kisses him, the weight of his body a comfort as she bites at his bottom lip, tastes the tang of him while she tugs at his hair. They kiss like that until their hearts calm and he rolls off of her and lies against her, the tide of the ocean and their own breaths the only thing she allows herself to think of for an indeterminable amount of time. She tries not to think about how nice this is, this simple comfort between them. If she thinks too long she’s sure it would be ruined.

Later, after they’ve brushed as much sand off of themselves as they can manage they go inside the small cabin. The Survey Corps had built a number of outposts like this over the last few years. They are simple but not entirely lacking in comforts.

“Shower with me, my back is sore,” Mikasa says dryly.

“Because you left your side open,” he teases and she slugs him on the shoulder. He glares at her, but doesn’t offer her the satisfaction of showing any discomfort, only amusement.

She frowns at him and that only serves to make him seem even more pleased with himself.

“Either way it’s your doing, so make yourself useful.”

“You weren’t doubting my usefulness earlier.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes but turns on the water all the same. It hisses and the water is tinted red before it clears; it hasn’t been run in a while. She steps into the stream and shivers. The water isn’t as hot as she’d like, but it’s not cold. She wets her hair and lets the spray hit her, the remaining sand she hadn’t been able to brush away swirling down the drain.

Levi stands there simply watching her and for whatever reason this, of all things, makes her feel embarrassed. She pulls him into the water and sticks a bar of soap in his hand. He sighs, resigned to the fact that she doesn’t plan to allow him to just sit there watching her.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Below my left shoulder blade,” she leans to the side and winces at the tightness she feels. She leans up against the tile wall, bracing herself on her forearms.

He lathers his hand and digs his thumb into the muscles and she groans.

“No fucking wonder,” he says as he digs into the tensed muscle, “you need to stretch more,” he chastises.

“I didn’t ask you for a lecture, just your hands,” she says through gritted teeth.

“In this instance they come together,” he quips back. Regardless, he massages the muscle until it seems to have loosened up a bit, and then moves on to the rest of her until she’s more relaxed than she’s been in recent memory.

She looks at him, the water running down his body in a way that makes her want to map out each line of him with her mouth.

“You’re really good at that,” she says lowly.

He looks her up and down and for a moment she thinks he’s going to touch her again, but instead he shrugs and steps out of the water to grab a towel.

“It’s not a hard thing.”

She watches him as he dries himself off with a towel, shamelessly enjoying the way his muscles look as they move beneath his skin.

They ready themselves for bed in silence. After all this time she knows he doesn’t sleep much, but he goes through the motions of preparing for bed all the same. She isn’t sure if this is out of some strange optimism that he may sleep even a little bit or more because he thinks she will be concerned if he doesn’t try to rest.

Waiting is tiring in a way she never would’ve expected, so she is ready for sleep. She lays down on the cot, the sheets and quilt musty from disuse. She’s grateful she cut her hair as it dries far more quickly now and doesn’t even wet her pillow.

Her body is relaxed but her mind is still busy. She thinks of Eren and Armin, of what they’re doing and how far away they are from her.

“When do you think the others will call for us?”

She asks before she can stop herself, an almost childish need for affirmation that this separation, at least physically, won’t be forever.

“After the ships dock, I suspect.”

She nods and holds her scarf close to her while she sighs. She’s grateful he doesn’t comment on this habit. It’s embarrassing enough as it is, yet another thing she’s incapable of letting go. She looks over at him, sitting in the wobbly wooden chair next to his own cot. Even relaxed he somehow manages to look restless and weary.

“Did you ever think things would turn out like this?”

Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper and she wonders if he heard her.

“No, I didn’t,” he looks at her, eyes flashing with something that she thinks may be pain before he puts it away somewhere else. She’s overwhelmed with a feeling of relief. His response is simple, but she knows that he understands, and that alone is a comfort she hasn’t had in a long while.

She feels a strange impulse to reach out to him and her stomach turns uncomfortably. She’s never wanted to touch him aside from fighting or sex and she’s not sure how she feels about that. She lays on her back and looks up at the dusty wooden rafters.

Mikasa turns off the lamp by her bedside, leaving her half of the room dark. She closes her eyes and thinks of Armin and Eren as she listens to the push and pull of the ocean on the shore outside.

Maybe what she needs from Levi is that he needs nothing from her. Maybe he needs that from her as well. Just one person who they can entrust to the other instead of another added burden.

Before she drifts off to sleep, she thinks to herself that she may like Levi Ackerman a little after all.


End file.
